Retirement
by OliveTheOlive
Summary: A prequel to Story Time and The Clock Tower. The Kaitou Kid retires. Hakuba Saguru, now a police superintendent, decides to investigate.


The notice was simple, straightforward, and not entirely unexpected. The Kaitou Kid had retired. The report reached him half an hour after he found the note on his desk. The current team of officers that routinely chased him were sure they were the first to be informed, but Saguru noticed that the timestamp on the first email was only twenty-three minutes ago.

At least Kuroba had the decency to give him his own copy of the note. And typical of Kuroba, he was dispassionate enough to send the same note to everyone. It has been fun, I'm retiring, thank you for all the great chases. Nothing personal. Saguru wished the note had included that part. Nothing personal. It wasn't your fault I stopped, and it wasn't your fault I kept going. But it didn't need to be said. Kuroba had never cared who was after him.

It was unprofessional to get so wrapped up in one thief, but Kid was the first case that had really stumped him, back when he was a teenager with a huge ego and even huger ambitions. Even today, he wasn't sure whether it stung that nobody ever had caught the Kaitou Kid, or whether it reassured him that at least nobody had come closer than him. But it would have been nice to at least know why Kuroba had chosen now, of all times, to hang up his top hat.

Saguru decided the best way to find out was to ask. He grabbed his jacket and was already shrugging it on as he opened his office door.

"If anything urgent comes in, I'm indisposed," he told a desk-bound officer. The fellow had a mountain of paperwork in front of him. Solid evidence that he would be around to tell anyone who asked that the superintendent was out.

Saguru headed to the garage. (He had his own parking spot. One of the perks of rank.)

An hour, three minutes, and 47 seconds later, he was knocking on the door of one of Kuroba's numerous flats. Why Kuroba needed multiple homes in the same city was a mystery, but one easily solved when you knew he was a master thief with a tendency to never stay in one place for long. He probably had many more hideouts and safehouses than anyone knew about. Saguru only knew about ones that Kuroba had used out of disguise, and then probably only some of those. Hopefully he would have some luck with one of them. He had tried the primary home first, of course, the one listed as Kuroba's official address, but nobody had answered.

He was about to give up on this place and try the next when a shout of "Coming!" from inside the flat announced an occupant. He heard some scrapes as several locks were undone, and then the door opened, and he was face-to-face with Kuroba Kaito, who did not look happy to see him. Kuroba's hand jerked, like he was about to touch his own face and he scowled. "Hakuba? This apartment isn't even listed as mine. What are you doing here?"

Saguru handed him the note. Kuroba pretended to read it, and looked back up.

"You don't still think I'm-"

"I am interested in your opinion," said Saguru quickly. "That's all. I was wondering if you had any theories on why Kid would choose now, of all times, to retire."

Kuroba looked skeptical. "You're assuming that I would have some idea."

"Your guess is as good as mine," insisted Saguru.

Kuroba sighed, and moved out of the doorway. "Whatever. Come in."

Saguru thanked him and stepped inside. The flat was small, cluttered, and sparsely furnished. However, the few pieces of furniture in the apartment looked expensive, and a large mirror leaned against the wall, which made the room feel more spacious than it had any right to. Kuroba waved him over to a small couch, and then pulled the single dining chair away from the table, which was covered in cards, scarves, and what looked suspiciously like a mask and several jars of makeup. He put the chair in front of the couch and sat on it backwards, so he was facing Saguru.

"So Kaitou Kid is retiring," he said, as if he had to process the information.

"Yes," said Saguru. "But why?"

"Why does anyone quit a job?" said Kuroba. "Or switch jobs. He got sick of it!"

"Burglary and theft just aren't that fulfilling anymore?"

"Dunno. Maybe he's having a mid-life crisis?"

Saguru looked at him sharply. "_Are_ you having a mid-life crisis?"

Kuroba grinned. "I wish."

"Then it is something more serious than that," concluded Saguru, starting to worry in earnest. What could make the Kaitou Kid stop stealing?

Kuroba just laughed at him. "I wasn't joking. Not really, anyway. What if Kid is just getting old? How old are you?"

"We're the same age," Saguru reminded him.

"So you're old. Well, Kid first appeared before you were born, right?"

"I doubt it's the same Kid today as the first one," said Saguru. "And I wouldn't be surprised if he's planning on passing it on again. Maybe we'll see another Kid in a few years?"

"Well, I don't know about all that. But my point was, whoever Kid is, he must be ancient by now."

"I suppose. Yes, of course you're right. You look very good for your age, though." It was true. Kuroba had some grey hairs here and there, but other than that he still looked about twenty. He had a boyish face. It was hard to believe that the two of them were really the same age.

Kuroba leaned back, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He looked back at Saguru, and stared a very long time. He got up and sat back down on the couch next to Saguru, studying his face.

"Looking for something?" quipped Saguru.

"Nothing," said Kuroba. "You're right. I do look good for my age."

"Ah, and I don't?"

"Not really. You just look your age."

"Thanks," said Saguru dryly. Kuroba did not elaborate. Perhaps he was self-conscious about his looks. It didn't seem unlikely that a master of disguise would worry about his usual appearance. "So... Kid's getting old. That's your explanation?"

"That's the most reasonable one," said Kaito. "I'm surprised you didn't think of it."

"Well, yes. I suppose it is, I – well, I don't think I quite let myself believe that Kid could be getting old. It doesn't seem like it. He hasn't slowed down, that's for sure!"

"Maybe you just aren't as fast anymore," said Kuroba.

"Slander," said Saguru. He got up from the couch, pushing himself up with a bit more effort than he would have liked. "I should go."

Kuroba was looking contemplative, but he snapped into action at Saguru's departure. "Right. Uh. You sure? I might have tea or something. Or hey, we could have lunch. Haven't really seen you in while."

"I'd love to," Saguru assured him. "But I should get back to work. I hope you'll keep in touch."

"Right." Saguru wondered if Kuroba sounded a little disappointed, and then chalked it up to wishful thinking. The invitation had probably been mere courtesy – Kuroba had always been eager to get rid of him. Saguru was shown out of the flat, and he drove himself back to headquarters, deep in thought. It really shouldn't have been that surprising that Kuroba wanted to move on. He'd been stealing for close to forty years. Still, there was a certain amount of nostalgia wrapped up in Kid heists, and Saguru was sorry to see them end, as unprofessional as that might be. And it got him thinking about his own career, and whether the police really needed him anymore. He was old enough to retire as well. He'd be able to visit England more often, maybe go back to more freelance detective work, on his own schedule. It was an appealing possibility.

So appealing, in fact, that within a month he'd given his notice and booked a flight to visit some relatives in England. Headquarters threw him a quiet retirement party, and someone was promoted to replace him as superintendent.

It wasn't until after his trip that he learned that Kuroba had disappeared before he retired – only two weeks after their last conversation. Saguru immediately went knocking on the door of every one of Kuroba's residences, and when there was no answer anywhere, he even staked several of them out, to be sure. When that proved fruitless, he took to traveling when he was in Japan, and always kept an eye out for a familiar face. But he knew all too well that there was no point. If Kuroba wanted to be found, he would be, and if he did not want to be pursued, no one would ever have any clue where he was. And even if he knew Hakuba was looking for him, it would make little difference. Kuroba had never cared who was after him.


End file.
